Tune Teef

I remember going into that music shop

Going to the top floor

Taking pictures of the notation

Before leaving with no money spent

But a pocket full of score. 


I told you all about it,

You said, it was illegal,

I said, I doubt it,

You said, it is. It’s not evil,

Just theft. 


I didn’t know I broke the law

For treble clef. 


It was only two months later,

That my jaw swung right to left,

My face hung up in supermarket

Walls of shame,

And I spunked more money than I would’ve

In that music shop

On scores and sheets 

And dancing beats

That rode my brain. 


I stopped playing keyboard. 


I deleted those photos;

Removed the evidence 

That splashed around

My cold toes. 


Went into the leaping streets

Then into bedsheets, comatose,

Picked motive over Mozart

And baked over Bach,

Chopping powder over Chopin,

And gave in talent for a laugh. 


But I wrote more poetry than I could’ve

If I hadn’t done that trade,

And now I’m sober again, after all these years,

I’ve finally returned to the stolen page. 


My fingers found the keys with ease

Hovered over melodies not under nose

Reckoned I’d forget my ingrained understanding,

Of the staves, the placement, the handling

But I was just unpracticed and scared,

So it just goes to show… 

(I hope not. I have no piece prepared) 



By Lyric Deep.

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